


Tied Up

by thewritingsloth



Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, furniture with a purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingsloth/pseuds/thewritingsloth
Summary: Irene is full of surprises, and Sherlock certainly isn't complaining.





	Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> Because I feel like there's a need for more fic involving those two !

Usually, when Sherlock would find himself in such a situation, he'd let his instincts take over. Usually, when he found himself tied up, he'd get out with one of his practiced techniques. But, truth to be told, right now, he didn't want to escape. No, in fact, why would he want to do such a thing, when Irene was straddling him ?  
She had him on a chair, a wooden one, that he deduced might be broken by the end of her little game. She had been feeling playful tonight, and he had picked up on it pretty quickly, excited to see what the evening would bring. If only he had known !  
Irene was a woman full of secrets, of layers he couldn't get enough of discovering ; so when she had leaned over the table and whispered to him that she wanted to try something new, Sherlock's heartbeat immediately sped up.  
So here they were, on what could have been an uneventful friday night, lost in each other. Irene's blond locks fell in front of her angelic face, and Sherlock let out a groan at the sensation of her riding him. Sherlock Holmes didn't often lose control ; however Irene certainly made him crazy. But what wouldn't he do to make his darling Irene happy ! She loved to hear him, to hear his pleasure, so she urged him on, raking her manicured nails down his hairy chest with a smirk. A very common curse word left Sherlock's lips, frustration showing through the popped veins on his forehead : he wanted to touch her, to caress her body, but he couldn't. Tied to the chair, completely at her mercy, he could only beg for his salvation. An electric spark flew through the room, Irene losing her grip on their encounter as she came around him. Her ecstasy set off his own undoing, moans and groans mixing in a powerful chorus.  
Only then did they hear the crack of the chair's armrest.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow my quirky adventures at: thewritingsloth.tumblr.com


End file.
